


Welcome Back

by 6Thebestlaidplans9



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/F, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6Thebestlaidplans9/pseuds/6Thebestlaidplans9
Summary: Eponine comes back after a long business trip.





	Welcome Back

Cosette is rinsing the last of the dishes off and depositing them into the dishwasher when their friends finally begin to file out. Really, Éponine hadn’t even been on her business trip for three weeks, a party had been entirely unnecessary. It really did seem, though, that time had slowed during those weeks, and their whole organization felt a little off-kilter for it—though Cosette could be slightly biased, given that she also had to go home each night to an empty apartment and bed.

While Cosette dries her hands, she watches Éponine hug and rib and thank all of their friends and coworkers as they take their leave. Cosette had been worried that the woman would be too worn by her travel to want to interact with anyone, but the event was well-received. Cosette watches the languid ease with which Éponine holds herself, sipping her wine and cocking her wicked half-smile, and feels a pang of longing.

Hands dry, Cosette moves to the gathering space, trying to focus on tidying up anything that might have been jostled. It was a thirty-minute ride from the airport, followed by two hours of socializing. Cosette loves her friends, but…it’s been nearly three weeks since she and Éponine have been able to be _intimate_. Video calls are good enough for talking, but Éponine was kept extremely busy on her business trip, and no toy can match the feeling of Éponine’s touch. For all Cosette knows, Éponine might be too tired to do anything more than collapse into bed and sleep. And that’d be okay, of course. Cosette has felt Éponine’s eyes dragging across the bare flesh of her legs and the curves of her body all evening, though, and it’s taken every ounce of self-control tonight not to drag the woman into the bathroom and fuck like teenagers.

Marius, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac are the last to leave, gathered in the doorway and each embracing Éponine as they make their exit.

“Have fun,” Courfeyrac teases with a suggestive wink. Cosette catches Combeferre shooting Courfeyrac a scolding look. It’s hardly fair: Cosette’s certain everyone has an idea of what will happen (what Cosette _hopes_ will happen) the moment the door finally shuts behind them.

“I’m sure we will,” Éponine responds, voice lilting in a way that makes Cosette’s heart stutter. 

Éponine closes the door and turns, and Cosette feels oddly like a tiger’s prey. The warmth that has been pooling in the pit of her stomach since she left to pick Éponine up from the airport is now burning through her whole body, making her skin vibrate and her breath unsteady as Éponine turns her full attention to her at long last, stalking up to her with slow, easy paces. Cosette’s breath catches at it, and she feels a heady high overtaking her. The closed bedroom door comes up fast behind her, Cosette unaware that she had even been backing up as she keeps unblinking eye-contact with her smirking partner. Does it feel like this every time? She isn’t sure, but right now she isn’t sure of anything except Éponine’s halted figure inches away from her—inches that stretch into an eternity between them, an impossibly wide chasm.

Éponine continues to stand there, the tension building between them until Cosette is nearly panting for Éponine’s touch, and then Éponine is there, forehead against hers and gentle hands on her hips as she draws their faces together at last. 

The dam is broken, and Cosette nearly feels cold for a second before the hunger makes itself known afresh, building in her chest and shooting through her. The kiss, a gentle and tender moving of soft lips, isn’t nearly enough, and Cosette pulls the woman in with a strangled moan, positioning Éponine’s leg between her own as she pulls the woman down harder by the back of her neck and runs her other hand manically across her wife’s body.

 _Wife._ Yes, that had been a great idea.

Éponine seems to have picked up on Cosette’s intentions as the kiss grows hungrier, teases of tongue and teeth making themselves known as Éponine pins Cosette to the door with a hand to her shoulder, kneading a breast with her other hand as she grinds her knee tauntingly against a rapidly unravelling Cosette.

“Cosette,” Éponine whispers like a prayer as she kisses her way up and down Cosette’s neck. Cosette’s mind is blank, and she struggles to formulate any response more coherent than the stream of whimpers she has been emitting since Éponine’s mouth left her own.

The hand that was on her breast begins a slow trail downward, and Cosette simultaneously mourns its loss and burns where the fingers graze in their interminable path. Cosette’s breath is coming embarrassingly fast, and Éponine returns to kissing her in slow, languid movements as the fingers tuck themselves behind the waistband of Cosette’s skirt, dragging side to side in teasing movements. Cosette breaks the kiss to gulp, pulling Éponine in closer by the hips as she tries to steady her ragged breathing.

Éponine removes her leg, hand switching from the waistline of Cosette’s skirt to the hem as she slowly drives Cosette insane, fingertips only skimming the skin of Cosette’s thighs as they move up. The whispering suggestion of touch is almost worse, and Cosette realizes she’s holding her breath as Éponine looks down at her, gauging her reaction. Cosette’s legs begin trembling as the hand snakes to her inner thighs, and she nearly moans when the fingers finally find their mark, meeting only bare skin.

“Fuck,” Éponine breathes, voice breaking on the word as she looks at Cosette in shock. “Have you…the whole party?”

It’s Cosette’s turn to smile coyly. “Never put them on.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Éponine groans, suddenly moving both hands to the backs of Cosette’s thighs and hiking Cosette up onto her hips, kissing her desperately. Cosette feels one hand move from the bare skin where her thigh meets her ass, flying up to support her back as the bedroom door finally swings open.

“You will be the death of me,” murmurs Éponine into Cosette’s collarbone as she is carried across the room. 

Cosette is vaguely aware of Éponine kneeling onto the bed before she is thrown back, a mountain of pillows cushioning her fall as Éponine crawls up the bed and resumes kissing her, positioned between Cosette’s legs.

Cosette tries to return her hands to her wife’s sides when Éponine grabs them firmly by the wrists, holding them out from her.

“Oh no you don’t,” warns Éponine with a dangerous smile. “You know exactly what you did, you don’t get to do anything tonight.” Éponine tenuously lets go, sitting up. “And if you try to touch again, I’ll get out the cuffs, and we’ll see how obedient you can be then.”

Cosette’s lashes flutter in sync with her halted breath at the suggestion, but she nods her head nevertheless.

“Good,” Éponine says, falling back over her. Éponine kisses her as she rucks up Cosette’s shirt, untucking it from the skirt and running her warm hands reverently over Cosette’s stomach. Her fingers trace at the bottom edge of her bra as she nibbles at Cosette’s lower lip, eliciting another moan. Cosette writhes beneath the touch, satisfying herself with clenching her thighs around her wife’s hips. 

Éponine breaks the kiss to wrench the shirt over Cosette’s head, gently tugging Cosette’s curls through the neckhole and stroking them carefully before pulling Cosette back into a gentler, careful kiss. 

Cosette feels Éponine’s hands wandering over her bare skin, weaving into her straps to guide them off her shoulders and tracing along the lace-edged top of her bra before reaching around Cosette’s back with a splayed hand. Cosette arches her back to allow Éponine access, and Éponine answers by kissing down between Cosette’s breasts, the tension of the bra’s band releasing in quick succession. 

Cosette is divested of the bra with no ceremony and is vaguely aware the Éponine probably threw it on the floor the way she knows Cosette hates, but there are many more important things at hand: Éponine’s tongue is drawing slow, torturous circles around her nipples, and a hand is lazily tracing patterns along the insides of Cosette’s thighs.  
Cosette is trying to focus on anything but grabbing at her wife and pulling her up hard against her; she settles for clutching at the pillow under her head instead, craving the touch of Éponine’s skin and regretting not making a better effort to disrobe her when she had the chance earlier. 

Éponine bites gently at Cosette’s neck as her deft hands finally, at long last, move to the wetness between Cosette’s legs, causing her to cry out wantonly. “Éponine, please,” she chokes.

“There’s my girl,” encourages Éponine, running fingers through Cosette’s sensitive folds and she rolls Cosette’s other nipple between the knuckles of two fingers. She kisses her way down from between Cosette’s breasts to her belly button and continues going, unimpeded by the bunched skirt at her waist and causing Cosette to gently gasp as she feels Éponine’s warm breath on her mound.

There’s a moment where the world stops, where time has boiled down to Cosette’s ragged breathing and pumping pulse and the wicked look on Éponine’s face as she rests Cosette’s thighs on her shoulders. Cosette feels her clenched hands trembling beside her head as Éponine holds her entire world in her hand.

When Éponine’s tongue finally touches her, it’s static electricity. Lightning courses through her whole body, the current licking through her veins. She spasms, hips rucking up against Éponine’s face. She feels rather than hears Éponine’s chuckle, and soon Éponine’s arms are wrapping around Cosette’s thighs, controlling the erratic movements.

Cosette’s vocabulary, usually so formidable and carefully selected, has boiled down to moans, whimpers, the occasional whine, and Éponine’s name. _God_ , Éponine’s name, as if she could bring herself to say anything else.

Cosette can barely keep her eyes open to watch Éponine’s ministrations, lost in the pleasure that can only be found at her wife’s hands. Cosette can already feel her orgasm building; she knew she wouldn’t last long—she never does with Éponine, and after nearly three weeks without her other part she’s pleased that she didn’t grind herself to release before they even made it to the bed.

Even as Éponine ravishes her now, Cosette’s hips buck wildly into the feeling of her, whining becoming more desperate as her orgasm crashes over her in waves, breaking the tension inside of her and making her legs tremble. Her hips jerk involuntarily as she recovers, vision returning from the overwhelming white. 

She looks fondly between her legs at the most beautiful woman in the world, who is now sitting up on her knees and wiping her mouth on her forearm. Éponine grins down at her, crawling back up for a kiss. Cosette tastes herself in Éponine’s mouth and cherishes the groan Éponine emits when Cosette pushes herself up on her elbows to press their bodies together and reach her lips to Éponine’s neck.

“God, Cosette,” Éponine gasps, pushing her down. “You.” Éponine presses a kiss to Cosette’s forehead. “You are just too perfect.” The kisses trail Cosette’s hairline before Éponine begins nibbling at Cosette’s ear. “That voice message…” she growls. “Cosette, the sounds you made.” Éponine lets out a small moan as she begins running her hands over Cosette’s bare body again. “I was in a meeting when you sent that, you sinful creature.”

“Oops.”

“I was worried it was an emergency. Having to wait the entire rest of the day to finish listening to you get yourself off for me,” Éponine trails off with a shudder before returning her attentions to carefully applying kisses with the faintest graze of teeth to Cosette’s neck and the attached shoulder. “Euphrasie Fauchelevant, you will not raise a finger for me until we get you off as many times as I got myself off to that absolutely obscene message,” Éponine vows. “Which means we are in for a long night. Possibly several.”

“I only sent it a week ago,” argues Cosette.

Éponine makes a devilish face. “I missed you a lot.”

“Hmph,” pouts Cosette, crossing her arms over her bare chest. “Well if that’s the case, then we’re doing things my way. And that means that your clothing comes off, now.”

Éponine grins impishly. “Yes ma’am.”


End file.
